


feathers in the bed AGAIN

by TurquoiseCake



Series: The “Let’s Fuck Davesprite” Series [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Consent, Dave Strider isn’t in this, Davesprite (Homestuck) Has A Cloaca, Dildo usage, EXTREME self indulgence, F/M, Femdom, Fingering, I love how that’s already a tag, Light Bondage, davesprite is a pillow princess, double orgasm yooooooo, only Davesprite, silliness, w/e enjoy, whos also Dave Strider technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 10:14:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20406046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurquoiseCake/pseuds/TurquoiseCake
Summary: Cute and sweet and you fuck davesprite and there’s light bondage





	feathers in the bed AGAIN

On many occasions, you’ve woken up with little neon orange feathers strewn all over the bed, in your hair, in your pubes, just, fucking everywhere. Now your lifestyle isn’t THAT wild, but sometimes you don’t remember how they got there, and so you’ve learned how to figure out the culprit even when hungover and sick. It’s usually because you were fooling around with your darling the night prior. Your darling being the big orange goof that you love to hell and back who may or may not still be beside you when you wake up in the mornings. This is one of those mornings where he’s not beside you.

You take a moment to stretch and groan and roll over languidly onto your stomach, prop yourself up on your elbows, and stare tiredly with one eyebrow raised at the feather caught in your hair dangling right in front of your face. With a puff of air you blow it away and watch it drift down onto the pillow. Sigh. Roll back over, sit up, stretch again, and contemplate your entire lack of clothes for a few more moments. You take all the time you need yawning and picking tiny tufts of feathers out of your pubic hair, and once you’re done with that you sit quietly and giggle to yourself about how silly this is, how weird this is and how much you love the big feathery asshole who left this whole mess to you to find when you woke up.

Fuck clothes, you get up and saunter downstairs naked. Or, you would, if you weren’t worried that hey maybe the house isn’t as empty as you think it is. Instead you saunter downstairs in only a blanket and arrive at the foot of the house to the delightful smell of pancakes cooking on the burner. Ah, there he is, you’ve spotted your love just around the corner in the kitchen as you suspected, making the only food he knows how to make, wearing your oversized flannel shirt around his hips with the sleeves tied like a jacket. It’s like he wanted to wear your shirt, but realized he couldn’t due to wings, and settled for tying it around his waist. It’s so silly, you love it so much.

“g’morning, fucko.” You say endearingly, wrapping your arms and blanket around him from behind, trapping him in your loving snuggly embrace.

“Morning,” he says, patting your hand, “I made breakfast.”

“sweet of you,” you say, and you mean it, “thanks hon.” You kiss him on the neck to show your appreciation.

The two of you eat his tasty round masterpieces while sitting together on the couch with the morning radio playing in the background. Fresh sunlight pours in from the lightly curtained windows and makes everything in the room glow. It’s nice, happy. You like mornings like this, with him and nothing to do today. Eventually, once you’ve downed a hearty number of pancakes and apple juice, you decide to address the elephant in the room. It’s a cute metaphorical elephant, decorated with magenta circus rugs and gold, you can just tell it’s very presence will make for a whole evening of delight. Metaphorically.

“So about last night,” you begin, sprawling back against the arm of the couch and sipping your apple juice like it’s fine wine.

Davesprite instantly scoffs and shoves an entire pancake in his mouth, looking away from you and fluffing up a bit. You love it when the feathers on his collarbones do the thing where they fluff up, it means he’s either flustered or showing off and it’s adorable.

“It was pretty good, you know.” You tell him with a smile, and he looks back at you, swallows, huffs a tiny little huff that is but the ghost of a laugh that died in his lungs before it was born, and gives you a small smile.

“It was?”

“Yea man!” Your smile brightens, and you nudge him with your foot. “You hot. Me turned on. Shit good.”

“The cavewoman has spoken.” He says, and sips his apple juice. The man practically has an addiction to the stuff.

“Damn right she has,” you haul one of his talon feet into your lap to run your fingers down his shortened calf, his scaly skin that starts above his ankle, his elongated foot and his weird crow toes. Being a digitigrade now, as all walking birds are, his legs are transformed into these bizarre hybrid structures that make him walk on his toes. He seems to be doing fine on them, he was already used to it after the first few weeks of having them, but every now and again you’ll pull his feet into your lap as you’re doing now and massage them with your hands just to comfort him. It’s also because his legs fascinate you and you can’t get enough of them, but that’s besides the point.

“And now the cavewoman is asking you,” you soften your voice as you speak, rubbing his feet while he looks away again and blushes slightly, “what you thought of last night.”

“...”

“You can be honest, Davesprite.” you make an effort to be as warm and open as possible.

He rubs the back of his neck. “It was good, really good, honestly. Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask,”

“Hm?” You work the tension out of his crow-toes and make it a point to be inviting.

“Is it chill that I’m bottoming almost every time we do this? Like do you ever want me to, I donno, you know?” He takes another sip of apple juice and starts tearing nervous little chunks out of the last pancake on his plate with his fingers, not eating any of them. “I just, is it cool? Would you rather do something else?”

“Nah, honey,” you stroke his leg in a way that’s really supposed to be comforting and lean down to briefly kiss his knee. “I’m absolutely happy with the arrangement we’ve got, as long as you are too.”

“Alright, Cool.” He takes a moment to breathe and continues picking at the pancake. “Hey, another question, and I have no fucking clue how to ask this in a way that isn’t weird, but next time we fuck would you be chill with trying handcuffs?”

You can’t help your blush and your smile. “Who’s wearing them?”

“Uh, me, if that’s cool.”

“I’d be down.” You say, crawling towards him to settle right up against his side. “Hella down. I can order the toy cuffs tonight and have them here by Tuesday. You want some fluffy velcro ones or some hardcore realistic lookin metal ones?”

He seems surprised by your eagerness. “Fake ones, yo. My wrists ain’t made of leather.”

“Aight,” you smile, and kiss him on the cheek. It’s nice being able to talk openly about what you want like this. “Jack and Jill dot com cuffs it is.”

~

And jack and Jill dot com cuffs you shall have. You find some nice ones for about ten dollars on the aforementioned website, black belt-style cuffs with soft orange lining on the inside and a pretty silver chain. You check with him before ordering, and he chuckles at the color and agrees. They arrive on Tuesday, just as promised. You’ve got the whole thing planned, and you’re buzzing with excitement.

So that’s how you wind up posing at the foot of the bed wearing some absolutely silly black lace lingerie and a strap on while Davesprite laughs on his back on the bed, covering his face with his hands. This is so stupid, but it’s so much fun. He sits up on his elbows, blushing as you crawl forward, up between his legs, sit on his lap so he can feel the dildo press against his stomach, and put your hands on his shoulders to massage them. You’ve been working all day, and he’s been doing whatever he does to make money all day, and the two of you haven’t fucked for a good five days, and you’re so ready it’s awesome.

“Hi sweetheart.” You say, and kiss his forehead. It’s so sweet and out of place it makes him blush.

He cooes as you rub his shoulders, letting you know you’re making him feel good. You push him back onto the bed, wings unfurled and sprawled out on either side of him, and kiss him deeply there. His hands tangle in your hair and his ankles hook together behind you, and a soft, needy sound escapes him. The two of you kiss till you can’t breathe, and by the time you pull back for air he’s panting against your cheek and clutching you tightly. Sitting up, you rest back on your heels and admire him like this, smile as you run your hands up the insides of his thighs to make his blush darken.

After coaxing him to sit up with you, you get him on his knees and slide behind him, hug him from behind. The way his head falls to the side to give you room as you start to kiss his neck lets you know he’s eager, but you still have to check. You breathe in deep and bury your face in his soft feathers, nussle him sweetly. “Davesprite?”

“Hmm?” He already sounds a bit distant, cloudy with lust.

“You sure you’re alright with this?”

“Yea, yea,” he turns his head to try and face you, “you?”

“Yea,” You say, and hug him tighter as you smile into the back of his neck. You press kisses there, feel him go soft and shivery as you slide your hands down his chest and stomach, rubbing at his sides and hips. There’s no resistance from him as you gently take his hands and guide them to rest behind him on his lower back, pull out the cuffs, and secure his wrists together behind his back. He leans back against you and arches his back, eyes shut as you slide your hands up his inner thighs and spread his legs further apart. Most of your efforts turn to whispering dirty things into his ear, kissing and biting at his neck, touching him everywhere but his cooch with your hands, and smiling as he gasps softly from what you’re doing to him.

It’s gratifying as hell, the way he’s slowly loosening up and losing his composure as you gradually get rougher with him, squeezing his thighs and biting his neck. At the same time, you’re stroking your hands through his feathers, kissing him sweetly, pressing yourself flush up against his back. So long of this and you’ve got him shivering on his knees, swallowing hard and making tiny little unintentional noises like cute little peeps or sweet cooes or soft gasps. You run your fingers slowly through the soft, tiny downy feathers that grow where his pubic hair should, and feel his breath hitch in his throat.

“...babe,” he says, voice shaky and quiet. He’s so wet already, you can feel it as you brush your fingers over him.

“yea?” You whisper, resting your palm over his warm crotch.

He makes a small “ngh” sound in response, and squirms a little against you, tugs on the restraints just to feel them hold him back. The position and the petting have got him pretty riled up already.

“You good?” You ask softly, pausing.

“Yea, I’m good,” He says breathlessly, and squirms again. “...please, just, please.”

Your answer comes in the form of kissing his neck and stroking his cooch, rolling your hips forward against his to encourage him to roll his hips into your hand. He does so with vigor, breath going all shivery as you rub him firmly, adoring how slick he is. It’s so easy to slide a finger in, and he swallows hard and presses his face into his shoulder when you do. When you stroke something that makes him blurt a small but lovely little moan, you slide a second finger in and double your focus against that spot. Before long you’ve got him arching up into your hand, his labored breathing letting you know he’s gotten _very _into this. You stroke him till he’s chirping desperately and trying to bounce on your hand, and he whines when you pull out.

You whisper in his ear, ask him if he wants you to keep touching him, to which he groans and nods so hard he could snap his own neck. So your fingers slide back in, and you enjoy the lovely music of him trying to gasp quietly and not go “a-ha!” like he’s sexually made a scientific breakthrough while being fucked. Emphasis on trying. Grabbing him around the waist to hold him still, you stroke your fingers firmly against all his sweet spots, admiring the way he looks with his back arched and his legs spread on his knees. He’s so slick, you manage to get a third finger in, and he goes tense, toes curling, teeth clenched.

“Davesprite,” you coo, nuzzling his cheek, “relax, easy,” you move your fingers slowly in and out of him, “relaaax.”

He huffs, goes “ngh,” again. “nn, babe that’s too much,” he says, so you pull out your fingers right away and kiss his cheek and stroke his entrance soothingly.

“You alright?” You console, “you haven’t safeworded…”

“I’m good, I’m good, keep going,”

“You sure?” You kiss his cheek again, and the back of his neck.

“Hell yea.”

You smile. “Sweet.” Taking your hand off his birdy bits, you place a hand in the center of his back between his shoulder blades and gently push him down till his face is in the sheets, then take his hips and encourage him to lift them up so his ass is in the air. You get up on your knees, between his legs, and press the strap on against him. He groans into the sheets and presses back against you. “Ready?” You ask, stroking his sides and helping him arch his back.

For a second he squirms in the handcuffs, hesitating, so you unhook them and get them in front of him so he can prop himself up on his elbows. He swallows, and then nods. “Ready.” It’s cute how he chokes on the word a little, it was clear he was trying so hard to keep his voice even.

Starting off slow, you slide the dildo between his legs, against his cooch, getting it slick and wet with his own juices before you try anything. His breath gets shaky as you rub up against him, get some lube out and slick both it and him up some more with your hand for good measure. You’ve already got a good rhythm on him and you’ve hardly started, sliding it against him and feeling as it gets proceedingly more and more frictionless the more you work. He’s taking deep breaths to steady himself, swallowing hard, squeezing his eyes shut, rocking back against you.

When you finally slide into him he’s so worked up he shrills a loud moan and shakes, and your heart does this weird fluttery thing where everything is suddenly alright with the universe. He clutches the sheets with his cuffed hands and drops his head to let it hang heavy between his shoulders as you start thrusting into him, sliding in and out and grinding against his sweet spots. You lean forward, slide a hand down his stomach between his legs and stroke the outside of his cooch where it’s stretched around the dildo, kiss between his shoulder blades. “Ahhnnfffuck,” says Davesprite, all high pitched and pretty.

He’s so slick, sliding in and out of him is so easy, it’s like he’s full of warm butter inside. You hit a spot in him that makes him caw, loud and unrestrained, and you can tell from the way he hides his head in his hands that he’s embarrassed. You find it adorable, and kind of hot, so you lean further down to grab him by the hair and whisper into his ear that he sounds so, so sexy, and bite his neck. He chokes on a coo, and you pull his head back by his hair to bare his neck better and make him arch his back. It’s beautiful the way he gasps open mouthed as you speed up and focus your efforts against the newly discovered sweet spot, driving him absolutely insane.

You hear him start babbling something breathlessly as you fuck him full-force, something along the lines of “fuck yes yes please oh god yes-“ and that sort of thing, which is delightfully hot. To your own pleasure, you’ve re-discovered how to grind your clit against the strap on with each thrust, and you bite your lip and make a noise that must let him know exactly how much fun you’re having because he shakes and caws in response. His noises build up till he’s gasping a moan on every thrust, and he comes with a long loud scream. It’s all whimpers and shakes after that, but you’re not done. You slide out of him and roll him onto his back, get his head on a pillow, and then guide his hands up to hook them to the headboard.

From experience you’ve learned that he can orgasm several times a night, so once you’ve got him situated and you’re sitting between his legs you slide right back into him and hear him gasp, tug on the restraints, and moan. He’s absolutely beautiful, and now you can see him all laid out before you with his hands trapped above his head. You lean down to kiss him hard on the mouth, swallow his moans and caws as you resume fucking him and grinding your clit into the strapon. The sensation is coiling up hot and tight in the pit of your stomach, you’re getting close, and let him know by the way you moan into his mouth.

The kiss has to break so you can pant against his neck, and so he can pant against yours, kicking his legs on either side of your hips and cawing like he doesn’t even care anymore. You can only imagine how good it must feel on his end, and thinking about it does it for you more than you’d thought it would. He yelps and makes this long, gorgeous, desperate sound, and you come on top of him just before he comes apart at the seams and sings glory to the universe and your entire animal brain. You love the way he gets all whimpery and sweet right after orgasm, it’s the sweetest thing and he’s never like that any other time for anything else.

The two of you lie satisfied and sweaty as you lazily uncuff him and pull him in for a nice long cuddle. Cradling his head under your chin, you sigh contentedly, and smile when he wraps his arms around you and snuggles into your chest. Tangled up in bed, you’ve never been happier than you are when you’re with him. Slowly you cool down together, until you’re cool enough to feel comfortable pulling the sheets up over you both. All is soft and warm and safe and happy under the sheets with him, you kiss his nose and he kisses yours back and you giggle together in the dark like children staying up late in a pillow fort.

Slowly, eventually, after soft whispered conversations and stroking cheeks and hair and back, the two of you calm down and drift into a sleepy haze. You hold him close, and he snuggles into you contentedly. Sleep descends upon you like a gentle snow collecting into a blanket over the earth, and covers you whole. Your dreams are sweet and beautiful, and in them you share an island with Davesprite, and together you are happy. 


End file.
